


Lingvo

by AreVeeBee



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Episode Tag, M/M, Red Team Week, edited for simmons day lol, s15e5, yeah woo lopez day love this guy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-09 02:09:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11094690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AreVeeBee/pseuds/AreVeeBee
Summary: Simmons learns a language, Lopez is somewhat nervous.





	Lingvo

**Author's Note:**

> I hope y'all like google translate. So sorry.

On the moon, it had takes awhile for everyone to settle. To get used to having a nice base that was meant for living in. A home that wasn't merely a cover from a hail of bullets. Lopez has always been adaptable. He had resigned himself to the monotony of his life the moment they landed.

Him? Relaxing? _Peh._ As if he'd ever get a chance with these goons running about.

The humans are adaptable too. With the help that, having two bases in the middle of nowhere isn't exactly new for them. In fact, Lopez has no idea why they hadn't just gone home? To their planet? He had tried to tell them, but he knew it was useless. It's nice to be able to say, "Hey, I tried", while watching everything blow up around him, at least.

Eventually, a routine was established. Lives were beginning again, and Lopez was able to keep to himself... He wished. Rarely ever was he completely alone. Usually Sarge would be about his space prattling on about... fuck if Lopez knows. Sometimes it's Donut, keeping up his daily wine and cheese tradition, Lopez wants to know where he keeps his finely aged motor oil.

It's Simmons, though, that baffles Lopez's subroutines. Because Simmons' wasn't talking to him, or trying to relate to him, or babbling about how lonely it is being the only smart one. He would just stand there or hover near a doorway. Lopez understands body language infinitely better than facial expressions, but even Lopez can tell he looks inquisitive.

Simmons' setting some sort of goal for himself is never a good thing.

So, Lopez tries to make himself scarce. He's not getting sucked into whatever the maroon moron is thinking of doing.

He can't help but pause, however, when he hears his name ring out from the living room.

"How can you not think Lopez is lonely!" It's.. Simmons. And where there's Simmons...

"Because he's surrounded by idiots, just like you. Just like me." There's Grif.

"Yeah, he's surrounded by idiots who can't understand him. I.E. Lonely."

"Dude, we've known Lopez for years and you've never once given a fuck. I know I don't."

Simmons is quiet for a moment. Lopez does the robot equivalent of rolling his eyes. The cyborg'll never change.

"Isn't this... the first time Lopez has ever had downtime? Think about it, Grif, he was built in a warzone--

Grif scoffs. "If you can call it that."

"-- and he's been with us the entire time! Well, nearly. I think it makes _sense_ that Lopez should get the chance to have a nice, intelligent conversation with a nice, intelligent person. In his own language!"

"You know he hates you, right?" Grif supplies.

Simmons' isn't given a chance to respond because Grif gets excited. At least for him. "Oh my god, Simmons. You're not-- Holy shit." He attemps to muffle a chuckle. "You're not only doing this to get him to  _like_ you, are you?

"What?!" Simmons' yelps. "No!!" Which is essentially him admitting that, yes, this is just a ploy to get on Lopez's good side.

The obvious denial only made Grif's chuckles break through. "Sometimes, Simmons, you make me so sad."

"Ugh, shut up. I'm gonna learn Spanish, Grif. I'm gonna get to know the _Real Lopez_."

Oh, sweet maker. Lopez doesn't want that.

\--

Simmons has stopped hovering around Lopez's space. This is fine, Lopez is thankful, in fact. The problem is he can't stop thinking _about_ Simmons. The cyborg is stupid, and annoying. He doesn't know how to relate to people without projecting, or being off-handedly insulting because he's too human to think before he speaks. But Lopez sincerely believes that if he puts his mind to it, the man is capable of actually learning, and comprehending something beyond high school Spanish.

Lopez isn't too familiar with fear, but the thought terrifies him.

\--

"Penny for your thoughts, Lopez?" Donut asks one day over the sound of tinkling glasses. "You've been lookin' real stuck in that robotic head of hours for nearly this entire hour." He lays a hand over Lopez's and looks tenderly into his visor. "You can tell me anything."

"Es estúpido." He insists, and moves his hand.

Donut gasps. "You're not stupid, Lopez!"

He ignores that. "Estoy dividido. Los años que he conocido han sido los más miserables de mi vida. No espero que nada cambie para mí. Sin embargo..." Lopez pours some oil in the designated spot. "Si Simmons tiene éxito, oirá lo que digo y lloro. Sería divertido." [I am torn. The years I have known you all have been the most miserable in my life. I do not expect anything to change for me. But... if Simmons succeeds he will hear what I say and cry. It would be amusing.]

"Wow..." Donut says, "Eso es _hermoso_ , Lopez... Sure is a shame Simmons' doesn't feel the same way."

"¡¿Qué?!"

Donut nods solemnly. "I know Simmons' cyborg parts must be _so_ dreamy, but he shares a bond with Grif that not even a robot hivemind could overcome."

"¡Te odio!"

\--

Time passes, there are dinosaurs, and the bases are burnt to the ground. Lopez is completely unsurprised. At least the wreckage gives him something to _do_. He can't fix the bases, not that Sarge hasn't ordered him to a few times already, but having something to devote his thinking routines to is a blessing.

Because Simmons' still hasn't talked to him yet. He makes excuses every time they're in the same room together, then leaves with this false purpose. And it's just so Simmons' to state that he's 'worried' about Lopez being lonely and then have nothing to do with him for days. Maker, he's annoying.

It's just... Lopez is starting to get.. a little sweaty at the idea of being understood by a teammate. It's not that he needs validation from the reds of all people, but he figures maybe it's time he gets some proper respect for once? After all the shit he's had to put up with.

Lopez realizes he's thinking about Simmons again and gets back to building himself a new charging station.

\--

Lopez passes by Donut's shelter, hears; "Gosh, Simmons! Modern Spanish sure is different from what I learned in High School! No wonder I have such a hard time understanding Lopez sometimes." and keeps on walking.

\--

Out of all of them, Lopez will always hate the Orange One the most. There's code deep in his programming that compels him to, but it's not very hard to have the designation become genuine when he contemplates about all the damage Grif's done to the many vehicles he's come in contact with.

"Hey, Lopez," He sounds cordial enough.

Lopez grunts.

Grif clears his throat. "Kiel vi fartas?"  Gibberish, huh? Lopez's body language remains deadpan, but that seems to cause a grin to stretch across Grif's face.

"¿Te has vuelto demasiado estúpido? Pensé que ya habías llegado a tu límite." [Have you become /too/ stupid? I thought you had reached your limit.]

"No, Lopez-" Grif moves to pat the robot's shoulder. Lopez sends his strongest 'i'll kill you' glare and Grif smartly changes his mind. "-I don't need anything else. My week's been made for me." He leaves without saying goodbye. Good riddance.

\--

Lopez learns from Donut that Simmons is, in fact, avoiding him. "En serio." [No kidding.] Lopez cranks the sarcasm to eleven. Sheila taught him a lot in Blood Gulch.

"I confronted him for you! Aaaaaand," Donut says with a wink. "I think his reasoning is super duper! I just hope you don't think you're being lead on." He sighs, wistfully and Lopez cringes internally.

"Confía en mí, no lo hago." [Trust me, I do not.]

"I think it's romantic too, Lopez! But for him, it's just friendship. Don't worry, buddy, I'll be your shoulder to cry on should you ever need it."

Lopez is glad he'll never take him up on that offer.

\--

When another week passes, and Lopez is forced to admit to himself that he's looking forward to talking to Simmons. Not because he misses him or anything, but because the few times they run into each other the cyborg's been seeming more and more _pleased_ with himself. It's excitement he registers in his system at the thought of telling Simmons to wipe that look off his face and fuck off.

It could also be fun to ignore him too. The man spends weeks trying to perfect a language, only to not get the chance to show off? Nice.

When Sarge appears in his peripheral holding a tool box and his leg armor that appears to have been crushed by a tree Lopez wonders if Simmons' would laugh at his scathing comment.

Maybe he'd even add something himself. They could quip about their squadmate's intelligence and how, somehow, the blues manage to be even more stupid. Would Simmons' become more tolerable if he wasn't bending over himself to please nearly everyone around him? If he knew he could say whatever he wanted with no negative consequences?

The idea almost makes Lopez giddy.

\--

Every time Grif sees Lopez, he'll laugh. Lopez gets the sense he's not being laughed at, not that he'd care if he was. The idiot has simply found something to be amused with... Lopez hates it.

\--

"Hey, uh, Lopez?" Hearing Simmons' voice is so shocking that, if he weren't a highly advanced robot, he would have dropped his tools. The jeep, which had been driven into a rock wall by Sarge for no good reason, doesn't require immediate attention, so he gets up and stares the cyborg right in the face. Lopez expected him to get nervous, but he maintains what counts as eye contact with the robot.

He doesn't say anything, though, so Lopez prompts. "¿Sí?"

Simmons' takes a deep breath. Lopez's internal fans start to boot up, he has been thinking about this moment far too long to take this deadpan. "Por vi, mi lernis ĉi lingvo. Mi jam laboris for dum multaj semajnoj, sed mi kredas ĉi tiu penado estis tute valora ĝi."

What.

What.

_WHAT?!_

Lopez has spent countless nights toiling over what he'll say to Simmons. Contemplating - not at all worrying - about what Simmons may say to him. The idea that he may never be left alone had been terrifying. But even a robot with innards as cold as his couldn't help but 'feel'.. _something_  at the prospect of someone finally trying for him.

Really, Lopez should have seen this coming.

Not hearing immediate praise shatters some of his confidence, the cyborg begins to rub the back of his neck. "Umm, Lopez, mi-- err. mi parolas al vi."

Lopez has no idea what this moron is saying. "No tengo ni puta idea de lo que estás diciendo."

"Oh, wow." Simmons laughs, slightly high strung. "I really thought I was ready, but I guess my - heh - _Esperanto_ could still use some work."

There are many things Lopez prides himself on, and not being stupid is one of them. He knows exactly what went wrong. He knows that maybe Simmons genuinely wanted to get a better understanding of Lopez. He knows Simmons tried, but most of all... He knows to never overestimate any of these assholes ever again.

"Español." Lopez says, with enough resignation to put the orange one to shame. "Esperanto. No es. Español."

He watches the recognition wash over Simmons and, well, at least this whole debacle was almost worth it to see the panicked denial on the cyborg's face. "Esperanto... isn't Spanish?"

"Sí." Lopez confirms grimly.

"Fuck!"

Lopez goes back to fixing the jeep while Simmons starts repeating "Ĝi estas tiel sole!" at the sky. The day he never has to think about Simmons again will never come soon enough.

\--

Donut finds him before the day ends, because of course he does. "Oh, Lopez... I heard what happened..." The genuine sympathy in the man's voice is nauseating. "You must be so disappointed."

"Realmente no estoy." [I'm really not.]

"It's okay, buddy, I understand. It's okay to be hurt, but I think this will be healthier for you, in the long run." The pink clad soldier almost sounds close to tears. "That would have only reminded you of what you can't have. Ooooh, c'mere!" Lopez finds himself in a classic Donut embrace, a hand on the back of his head leads his visor to Donut's shoulder.

Christ.

"It's okay, Lopez, let it out!"

And... because maybe Lopez was a little bit disappointed. Maybe he was looking forward to being heard,. Maybe he does see these misfits as his family. Maybe he missed Simmons talking at him about shit he doesn't care about. Maybe he was ready for a change in dynamic from _somebody_. Even from a self-absorbed moron. Lopez wraps his arms mechanically around the human. "Quería... decirle cuánto lo odio." [I wanted... to tell him how much I hate him.]

"He doesn't know what he's missing!" Donut cries and Lopez?

He actually appreciates the sentiment.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! red team rules!
> 
> edited. happy simmons' day, everybody.


End file.
